Say Yes

by Celia Juliano

  “That’s great,” Janice said. Maybe she even meant it. That would be a miracle. Lorenzo smiled.

  The four eventually went back upstairs after Nick was satisfied all ran smoothly. He said he felt much better, though Lita insisted he shouldn’t be alone. She and Lorenzo urged him to come home with them, but he declined, saying they should get home and enjoy the rest of their evening. Janice surprised everyone by offering to stay with Nick.

  “You two go home, I’ll watch him,” she said as they all looked at her, eyebrows raised.

  Lorenzo and Lita exchanged sly smiles. Lorenzo agreed with Janice’s plan, reminding them to call if they needed anything, or if there was any change.

  As he and Lita drove home, she asked if he wanted to talk once they were alone in their room. The snakes bit now, releasing their poison into his blood. He rubbed his arm.

  “We’ll see,” he said.

  26

  Lorenzo lay with Lita in his arms, breathing in her vanilla fragrance mingled with the subtle scent of their lovemaking. Usually he would be relaxed at a time like this, but he wasn’t. He withdrew his right arm and put it under his head, exhaling.

  “You’re still tense,” Lita said, slowly pushing her hands up his chest. “Do you want me to give you a neck rub?”

  “No thanks,” he said. Instead of arousing him, her touch irritated him slightly.

  “I know this has been a hard time for us, but things are better, aren’t they?” Lita said as she snuggled next to him.

  Now he had both hands behind his neck. He grunted in reply.

  “You never told me about your appointment with Dr. Martin today. How was it?”

  “I don’t want to talk, Lita.” The doctor suggested he open up to Lita about his past, his feelings, but he wasn’t ready. He’d told her enough.

  “Okay, I will. I think Joanna is pregnant. Isn’t that great? Don’t tell anyone, not that you would. I was hoping going to therapy might help you, I mean…” She sat up and pulled the sheet around her. He looked at her, but she turned away. “I hoped you might want a baby soon.”

  “Why are you bringing this up again? We agreed to wait. I’m not ready yet.”

  “I’m starting to think you’ll never be ready.”

  “What’s your hurry? You’re only going to be twenty-three on Monday. We have plenty of time. I need time.”

  He practiced breathing deeply. At least he managed to appear calm. Lita wasn’t. She climbed out of their bed and slipped on her robe. She had tears in her eyes as she faced him.

  His stomach felt hollow and he swallowed. “What’s wrong?”

  “Everything, nothing.”

  Lorenzo sat up.

  “I’m pregnant,” she said.

  Lorenzo put his head in his hands then stared at her. “Forgot your pills again?” He heard his voice, angry and accusatory. He thought: she’s done this on purpose. She wanted a baby, so she stopped taking her pills. He wasn’t ready. He couldn’t be a father right now. “How far along?”

  “About six weeks, I think,” she whispered.

  “Shit.” He couldn’t think, he got up and found his clothes, got dressed automatically.

  “That’s all you have to say? Are you trying to say you want me to have an abortion?” Her voice had that dangerous tone she got, a combination of righteous indignation and hysteria.

  “I didn’t say that,” he said. He couldn’t face her. He pulled on his shirt. His neck ratcheted a few degrees tighter.

  “But you meant it. I could never do that. I did forget my pills. You know I didn’t mean to. I thought if I doubled up sometimes, it would be okay.” She sounded calmer, but, as he turned to her, he saw her anger: her face scarlet, her body rigid.

  “How long have you known?”

  “Only since this morning. I wanted to tell you about it before, but then…I was scared to tell you, but I tried.”

  Now he knew why she’d brought up having a baby so many times. She must have suspected for awhile.

  “I knew you’d be mad, but I didn’t think…how could you? How could you think about killing our baby, even for a second?” She lashed out with her words, all the while holding, almost caressing her stomach. “You don’t want this baby, fine, you can go to hell.”

  Her eyes told the truth of her hatred before she fled into the bathroom. The lock clicked. She cried. Her sobs tore at him, stinging like a cat’s scratches. Lita was right. He deserved to go to hell.

  So, he went, straight to his own private hell. The club crawled with men, a few women, a couple new dancers drew attention, but for now he sat at the bar, bombarded with the smells of liquor and sweat, the cacophony of whistles, hoots, shouts, and babble around him. A new bartender, too. Good, maybe no one would recognize him. After an hour, the warm numbness settled, his thinking grew fuzzy.

  He sat at a table alone. One of the girls came over and offered him a dance. He grinned slightly, his crooked seductive look and sat back as she started. He’d met her before. She’d pursued him, but he never went out with the girls from his father’s clubs. Now she had a chance, she snaked herself over him.

  “Wanna come outside?” she whispered in his ear.

  He knew what she meant as she tittered at her own question. She pulled him up with her and led him out. Somewhere in his mind, a voice spoke up, but he couldn’t hear it with the noise, the low laughter and booming music around him, the pounding in his own ears. As they went out back, she stopped, putting her hands on him.

  “No,” the word left his mouth like a bullet.

  He pushed her away. He couldn’t even remember her name. But he was too late. He heard a voice shouting, unmistakable.

  “What the hell?”

  Lorenzo looked over at his cousin Gianni.

  “Yeah, it is.” Lorenzo heard his voice reply, but it sounded wrong somehow.

  “What d’you want?” the woman said.

  “You to leave. You know he’s married. Go on. Now,” Gianni said.

  Lorenzo leaned against the wall.

  “Christ, Lorenzo, what’s wrong with you? If I had a woman like Lita at home, I sure as hell wouldn’t be down here.”

  “Yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He stood tall and the heat spread over him, his mind bubbled with jealousy. “You’ve always wanted her. You know what I’ll do to you if you ever touch her.” He tried to move, but the sudden rush caused him to lean against the wall again. He wasn’t used to drinking this much.

  “Shut up, you know she’s never given me a second thought. What you did to deserve her, I don’t know. She doesn’t deserve you, that’s for sure.”

  “I know,” Lorenzo said, his anger cooling. He ran his hands across his eyes.

  Gianni continued. “I should tell Lita about this, but maybe I won’t. Why are you here?”

  “None of your business.”

  “Fine. You can be a real asshole, but Lita loves you. For her sake, I’ll let it slide, this last time. Don’t let it happen again, or I’ll tell her, about everything, and pick up your mess, too.”

  Lorenzo’s anger boiled and he turned on Gianni, who shoved him back into the wall, getting in his face.

  “Don’t push me. Remember Halloween? You flirted with every hot woman in the place but the minute I asked Lita to dance, you were all over me. I felt bad for her. She never looks at other guys, only you, with that look, as if you were the best man in the world. This is it, be that man or let someone else.”

  “I know,” Lorenzo said. “Drive me home?” He shouldn’t have left.

  Gianni nodded. As Gianni drove, Lorenzo rolled down the window and let the cool, clean night air rush in at him. When they turned into the driveway, his stomach tightened.

  “Maybe I could crash with you tonight?” he said, staring at his house.

  “No, Lita will be worried.”

  “She won’t want to see me.”

  “Bull. Let’s go.”

  They went in together, his uncle Enzo upon them as soon as Gianni
put the keys in the basket by the door.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he said in a furious whisper.

  Lorenzo stared at him, rocking slightly. He inhaled and frowned at the odor of liquor and Jean Nate cologne emanating from his sweater.

  “You need some coffee. Gianni, go start a pot.”

  He grabbed Lorenzo’s arm, pulled him into the kitchen, almost shoved him onto a chair.

  “Well?”

  Lorenzo couldn’t answer. He put his head in his hands.

  “Useless. Gianni? Where did you find him? A bar? Not the club? I see that look, Gianni. Lorenzo, I could kill you.” Uncle Enzo paced in front of him. “Lita fell asleep not ten minutes ago after worrying for nearly two hours. How could you leave her like that? I can guess what you were doing. She’s pregnant with your baby! I tell you, I won’t tolerate this. None of us can take any more. Did you cheat? Were you with another woman tonight? Answer me. Be a man, goddammit, and answer me!”

  Lorenzo looked up at Uncle Enzo, who stood over him, breathing heavily. He saw Celeste out of the corner of his eye. Lita stood next to her. She trembled, her eyes red, a stark contrast to her pale face. His whole body hurt.

  “Enzo, please,” Celeste said as she went to her husband. “Sit down, hum? You’ve woken Lita with all that shouting.”

  Uncle Enzo turned to Celeste and Lita. “I’m sorry, my dear.” He sank into a chair across from Lorenzo.

  Lorenzo wanted to turn away, he wanted to run away, but he made himself look at Lita, at the pain he caused. Gianni set a cup of coffee in front of him.

  “I don’t blame you, Uncle Enzo,” Lita said, her voice small and hoarse. “Gianni, you’ll tell me the truth, won’t you?” She walked over to him.

  Lorenzo clenched his jaw, his body hot.

  “You and Lorenzo should talk. I won’t get between you.”

  “If he hasn’t done anything, you won’t, will you? Please, I need to know.”

  “I’ll tell you,” Lorenzo said. He pushed himself up. He ignored the throb in his temples and continued. “I was at the club, I drank a lot, one of the girls danced for me, I followed her outside, that’s all.” He rubbed at his neck, wishing he could get rid of the crawling, spidery sensation there.

  “All?” Lita made a sound, the muffled cry of a hurt animal.

  Gianni got to her before Lorenzo, steadied her, sat her into a chair. He sat next to her, fixing his eyes, full of concern and contempt, on Lorenzo, who sat back down, across from Lita. Celeste sat next to Uncle Enzo. They both looked so old and tired. He had caused all this.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You say that every time,” Lita said. “How many times do you expect forgiveness? You can’t keep using your father as an excuse. I’m sorry the timing isn’t perfect, but it never will be. I didn’t forget on purpose.”

  “I know.”

  Gianni stood, went to the phone, and called a cab.

  “Lita, do you want us to stay?” Celeste said.

  Lita shook her head. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have involved you. You both must be tired. I’ll be okay.”

  “Goodnight then.” Celeste and Uncle Enzo rose and kissed Lita, each in their turn.

  “Call us if you need to, my dear,” Uncle Enzo said before they walked out.

  “I’ll wait outside for my cab,” Gianni said. “Take care, Lita.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Yeah, thanks. I owe you,” Lorenzo said.

  “I didn’t do it for you,” Gianni said, glancing at Lita before he too walked out.

  “I’m tired,” Lita said. She rose and went to the door.

  “Shouldn’t we talk?”

  “We should have talked a few hours ago, but you didn’t want to. Now I don’t either. I’ll be in Sophia’s old room.”

  Lorenzo watched her leave. His stomach churned. He sipped the coffee, now lukewarm. How had they gotten here? He glanced around. Right there, almost exactly a year ago, he proposed to her. He shut his eyes, seeing it all again. Her smiling face as she looked at him, as Gianni said, as if he was the best man in the world. Over and over, he tried to be that man for her, time and again he failed. Even before they married, he screwed up. Not like he had tonight, leaving Lita when she needed him, but he had.

  Somehow he got upstairs. He stopped, pressed his hand to the door of the room where Lita lay. His stomach churned again as he heard her muffled sobs. Staggering down the hall, into their room, he entered the bathroom. But he just stood and gripped the cool countertop, his head bowed. They’d never spent a whole night apart since the wedding. Turning on the faucet, he splashed cold water on his face. Maybe he could hope, he thought as he crashed into bed. With Lita, hope always remained.

  “Morning,” he said as she stepped into the hall. He’d waited for her, pacing the hall, wanting, needing to be with her. “How are you?”

  She looked away. “I need to have some breakfast.”

  “I’ll make you something,” he said, following her downstairs.

  She kept going, averting her eyes from the family portraits lining the walls, the photos from their wedding, blank spaces for future children. She paused on the bottom step. He knew she liked the fuzzy feeling of the carpet between her toes. He leaned toward her and took a deep breath. How could he have left her, when her fragrance alone made him reach out to her? His hands hovered over her arms.

  “You can’t cook.”

  “Celeste taught me to make eggs, scrambled or fried.”

  “No thanks.”

  “Please, let me--”

  “I don’t want to upset Uncle Enzo anymore. I’m only still here because of the baby.”

  “You don’t mean that. We talked about this before. I know you won’t leave me.” He put his hand on Lita’s shoulder.

  “Don’t.” She shrugged him off and padded across the cold floor, into the kitchen.

  He followed her, each step an effort. Celeste, poking around in the refrigerator, turned as they entered, while Uncle Enzo glanced up from the paper. They greeted each other. Celeste asked if they wanted some breakfast.

  “I’ll make myself a smoothie. I want to take a walk,” Lita said.

  Lorenzo got himself a cup of coffee. “Do you want a cup?” Lorenzo turned to her.

  “No, thanks. Too much caffeine might be bad for the baby.”

  “I have a lot to learn.”

  Lita shrugged at his comment. She brushed her hand across her throat.

  “I’ll make that for you, you sit down,” he said as Lita rose.

  She eased herself back into the chair. Celeste offered to make some French toast, Lita’s favorite. Lorenzo felt Lita watching him. He tried to look competent and controlled. At least she still wanted to look at him.

  “I’ll walk with you,” Lorenzo said as he put her drink on the table.

  She glanced up at him. Her eyes flashed before growing tender. He gazed at her, studied her, with all the tender longing of their courtship. She closed her eyes. He knew she needed him. Lita spent the rest of the meal studying her plate. Lorenzo drank a smoothie but didn’t eat. He wanted to watch Lita. She pushed away her plate and stood, went to the sink, got a drink of water. He wondered what she was thinking. She stood taller, her hands around her stomach. She tensed when Lorenzo touched her back.

  “You ready?”

  “I want to go by myself,” Lita said.

  “I feel like a walk.”

  Lita shrugged and walked out as he held the door for her.

  Lorenzo watched her as they strode down the steep sidewalk, cars rushing past, a few people out, strolling, the morning fog floating, misty, around them, obscuring everything but their immediate surroundings. She’d lost weight--that couldn’t be good. She didn’t look quite herself anymore. Her eyes weren’t sunny and she frowned a lot, all his fault. He saw the rigidity of her back. He almost ran to catch up with her. She turned her head to him and stepped off the sidewalk.

  “Lita!” he shouted as he pulled her back, his a
rms crushed her as the hot whoosh of the passing car crackled against them. He lifted her back onto the sidewalk and folded her against him. She leaned into him. He couldn’t tell which one of them trembled more. “Thank God I came with you. You need to be more careful, especially now. The baby and I need you,” he whispered. His breath blew the tendrils of hair loosened around her ear.

  Caressing the small of her back, he pulled her closer. His body ached for her. She pushed him away and walked home. He tried talking to her, but she wouldn’t respond. As they approached their front door, he grasped her arm.

  “You and the baby need me, Lita. I know you want our baby to have a father around.”

  “Our baby? I see, when it’s in your interest, you’ll claim us. Isn’t that how your father kept your mother under his thumb?”

  He dropped her arm. Her words pierced him like a hundred pinpricks. He’d told her too much.

  “See you later,” he said.

  “Too early to go to the club again, isn’t it?” she said to his back as he walked away.

  He turned to her, unable to assume his detached mask, unable to hide the pain. “Fine, I’ll stay here,” he said.

  He brushed past her with a frown as he went into the house. He jogged up the stairs, not looking back. He wouldn’t leave this time, but he might as well be gone now. He closed his office door.

  27

  Lita leaned against the heavy door and breathed. She inhaled the last drifting hint of Lorenzo’s scent wafting from her clothes, where he’d pressed himself close to her. Once, after seeing him with another woman the first time, right after they got engaged, she leaned against this door as she did now. She remembered how crushed she felt but sure she would be okay without him. But, she told herself then, she didn’t want okay, she wanted a warm, happy family and a glorious, intense love--she wanted Lorenzo. She still did. She shouldn’t have said those hurtful things to him, but she trembled, thinking of how they might argue if she tried to apologize.

  Celeste and Uncle Enzo sat at the kitchen table when she walked in, talking in low tones. They stopped when Lita approached.